Today I went looking for a bra. Nothing fancy. Nothing covered in rhinestones or loaded down with five inches of padding. I just needed a unit of cloth that would keep these extensions on the front of my chest under control. I thought this would be a simple enough quest, but I soon found out this was very naïve.
Have I mentioned how much the Koreans like bright and shiny objects? This goes for everything…including underwear. I felt like I had walked into a discoteca when I found a store specializing in women’s lingerie. I was first attacked by the sales woman who just stalked me as I searched through the goods in hopes that I might something functional rather than just decorative. Unfortunately, as I searched I felt my head start to spin with all of the glitter floating around my head and all of the padding pressing down around me. Most of these bra’s were stuffed to the rim. I can’t imagine how disappointed the men of Korea are upon removal of these over the shoulder boulder holders…and that is what they were. It wasn’t the breast that the straps are weighed down with but rather the massive amount of cotton-polyester blend strapped to the the front of it.
Maybe they can use this for toilet paper? There is never any toilet paper in the bathrooms here. That is the only reasonable explanation I could find for stuffing a bra with so much padding.
I had to leave. I soon came upon another store and I thought it might offer a bit of hope, but alas, my entrance was doomed from the beginning. I had to leave there as soon as I entered for fear that I might pass out from the all the sparkles and glitter that greeted my eyes and the really loud Korean pop music that assailed my ears. I persevered. I tried one more store.
Same story, minus the music but replaced with even more viligent shop keepers.
I turned up my I-pod and I stopped off at a café. I took a deep breath and decided to head back to the subway. Attached to the subway is a huge department store called Lotte mart. I thought, “what the heck, it’s worth a try.”
So in I went. I noticed less emphasis on glitter in this place and this gave me enough hope to continue on and find the women’s department. I lost a little bit of resolve when I passed by the shoe department and was once again assailed by tacky shoes with bows, buckles, glitter and of course a height and selection heels that exist to keep chiropractors in business. I was almost trampled by a mob of people coming down the escalator, but I am a fighter and finally I found the department I needed at the other end of the store.
My efforts would not be in vain here. I took a quick glance around and saw that yes, this was a place for sensible and serious bra shoppers. I had no idea how serious of a place this was until I was practically molested by the sales associate.
In a mix of charades and broken English I told her what I was looking for and with a tape measure in hand she whisked me off to the dressing room and measured me. It was a little forward but necessary. I figured the sizes are different in Korea, getting measured was a good idea. However, when I picked a few articles to try on this woman actually came into the dressing room with me. I’ve heard this happens with bra fittings but the language barrier between us made it too complicated for me to make a big deal out of it. I had finally found a few bras that didn’t scream “Las Vegas” or that could second as a flotation device. I wasn’t going to let those pass me by.
Not only did this sales associate proceed to put the bra on me, she totally pushed and pulled and moved around these flabs of flesh people call breasts until she felt they were situated properly. She did this with each fitting. She directed me with firm pointing and short grunts to take my shirt off, put it on, try this bra on, take this bra off…etc. She was just so matter of fact about it I couldn’t protest. Maybe it was just because it was the end to a long weekend and I was feeling a little punchy from all of the glitz that had assailed me earlier, but I found myself just smirking. It’s funny what becomes acceptable when you become a stranger in a strange land. It should have been super awkward. I should have felt shy at the very least, but this was this woman’s job and she took it very seriously. Who was I too stand in the way of quality service?
I am proud to say that I succeeded in my quest. Not only did I find a functional, unpresumptuous concoction of wires, cloth and straps, I got a free fondling to boot.
Who can complain about that?
Peace!
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Monday, November 24, 2008
Little Boys
I am so sick of little boys who are too scared to say hello and too scared to let me go. I am so sick of little boys who front like they don't have a care in the world but cry the moment I bump their ego. I am sick of the shallow emptiness of first date conversation. I am tired of saying no and feeling ashamed and guilty for not feeling the same way. I am bored to tears with boys who like to appear smarter, stronger, wiser, more successful than they really are. I don't care. I don't care. I DO NOT care about how much money you make. I DO NOT care about how amazing you are and how you kicked the ass of so and so in a bar one time back in college. Or even worse, I DO NOT care about how you kicked the ass of so and so on the latest computer game! Oh, and please, your supposedly witty and sarcastic comment about the way I look was not funny, it was childish and mean. Are you still in middle school? Have you not learned how to give a genuine original compliment?
God PLEASE I need someone to challenge me!
Every date I go on I feel like I am looking after some five year old and I dread the tantrum, or worse, the moping, at the end of the night when I tell them that they get no treat for their good behavior. I am sick of listening patiently to them stroke their own ego and politely refusing to encourage them by ignoring the fishing line they keep throwing out for compliments.
Are they really all this insecure? This one dimensional?
I need someone to match me in my passion for life. My passion for living. My passion for loving and simply being. It disturbs me that it seems so much of this desire for life fizzled out and died when I left college. I guess it's true that the working man is a dying man. I don't want to be that. I don't want to be around that. I need a fire to feed my fire. I need someone to pique my curiosity.
But more than that, I need someone secure enough in himself so that I too might feel safe. How on earth is love supposed to develop and grow if it at all feels unsafe and exposed to the storms and disasters of life. A bit of shelter is necessary and I am so sick of having to be the one to fix and provide that shelter. I just want to rest. I want to rest from myself and the world, but how can I do that if the one I am supposed to love is nothing more than just another being I have to help breathe?
God PLEASE I need someone to challenge me!
Every date I go on I feel like I am looking after some five year old and I dread the tantrum, or worse, the moping, at the end of the night when I tell them that they get no treat for their good behavior. I am sick of listening patiently to them stroke their own ego and politely refusing to encourage them by ignoring the fishing line they keep throwing out for compliments.
Are they really all this insecure? This one dimensional?
I need someone to match me in my passion for life. My passion for living. My passion for loving and simply being. It disturbs me that it seems so much of this desire for life fizzled out and died when I left college. I guess it's true that the working man is a dying man. I don't want to be that. I don't want to be around that. I need a fire to feed my fire. I need someone to pique my curiosity.
But more than that, I need someone secure enough in himself so that I too might feel safe. How on earth is love supposed to develop and grow if it at all feels unsafe and exposed to the storms and disasters of life. A bit of shelter is necessary and I am so sick of having to be the one to fix and provide that shelter. I just want to rest. I want to rest from myself and the world, but how can I do that if the one I am supposed to love is nothing more than just another being I have to help breathe?
Monday, November 10, 2008
a word on happiness and vaginas
"happiness exists in giving away what we want the most"
-Eve Ensler (author of vagina monologues)
I've been spending the evening watching TED soaking up and gorging myself on all kinds of clips covering topics like scent, creativity and happiness. Eve's clip hit me the hardest.
As an ardent feminist who found a kinship, connection and laughter in each one of Eve's monologues I was thrilled when I saw her featured on the lecture series. She started off with a monologue and then went into how she herself, through travels and testimonials, became witness to much suffering. However, in spite of the odds that seemed stacked against women and their right to exist in equality, she was inspired. Here, in places where "women's bones are washed up next to broken coke bottle" there were "Vagina Warriors" taking up the sword of justice and the balm of mercy. She cites one example of one lonely women in Africa who took up the call to arms and is fighting, successfully, against the practice of female mutiliation with education and patience.
The human spirit truly is a beautiful thing.
And this is all wonderful, but what really caught me was the quote that Even ended her talk with. It made me ponder my own desires and what it is that I want the most and what it is that must give away in order to achieve this desire.
I went through a list that went something like this:
Freedom
Freedom
Freedom
Oh, and did I mention, Freedom?
The only issue is that I simply cannot fathom how giving that up in any way shape or form could help me to achieve it. I have spent my whole life fighting for it. I have spent hours upon hours in libries, jobs, churches, conversation, internet etc. trying to find, stregthen and secure my freedom.
To be more specific, I want the freedom to choose.
I want the freedom to choose my job, my location, my thoughts, my love.
I even remember as a young child on the school bus telling one of my girlfriends that, "I wanted a good job so that I could make enough money so that I could pick my husband and not care about how much money he made."
Isn't that a bit ridiculous that a child of 12 should be thinking like that?
I abhore the title of "girlfriend" and steer clear of anything that might resemble a relationship beyond friendship. I love my freedom and I hate feeling trapped by the fear that I might hurt someone because I no longer feel "love" for them....which is silly. I will always love anyone, but I may not want to be attached to them. I may want to fly off and be alone for a while. I may want to fly off and be with someone else. I would love to fly back to that person, but the culture we live in dictates that when those ties are broken we must either ignore them or try retying them ...which all seems rather frusterating since they only end up being broken again. Why can't we all just connect with "wireless?"
Anyhoo...that is my thought. That is my dilema. I can't decide what this all means. Should I allow myself to fall into the category of "girlfriend?" I know plenty of men who would like to label me as such (and I know that sounds stuck up, but guys only want a girl until she says "yes") Or, perhaps, giving up my freedom is something a little harder to grasp...so much so, I can't quite put my finger on it.
Hopefully it will come to me.
Until then....
-Eve Ensler (author of vagina monologues)
I've been spending the evening watching TED soaking up and gorging myself on all kinds of clips covering topics like scent, creativity and happiness. Eve's clip hit me the hardest.
As an ardent feminist who found a kinship, connection and laughter in each one of Eve's monologues I was thrilled when I saw her featured on the lecture series. She started off with a monologue and then went into how she herself, through travels and testimonials, became witness to much suffering. However, in spite of the odds that seemed stacked against women and their right to exist in equality, she was inspired. Here, in places where "women's bones are washed up next to broken coke bottle" there were "Vagina Warriors" taking up the sword of justice and the balm of mercy. She cites one example of one lonely women in Africa who took up the call to arms and is fighting, successfully, against the practice of female mutiliation with education and patience.
The human spirit truly is a beautiful thing.
And this is all wonderful, but what really caught me was the quote that Even ended her talk with. It made me ponder my own desires and what it is that I want the most and what it is that must give away in order to achieve this desire.
I went through a list that went something like this:
Freedom
Freedom
Freedom
Oh, and did I mention, Freedom?
The only issue is that I simply cannot fathom how giving that up in any way shape or form could help me to achieve it. I have spent my whole life fighting for it. I have spent hours upon hours in libries, jobs, churches, conversation, internet etc. trying to find, stregthen and secure my freedom.
To be more specific, I want the freedom to choose.
I want the freedom to choose my job, my location, my thoughts, my love.
I even remember as a young child on the school bus telling one of my girlfriends that, "I wanted a good job so that I could make enough money so that I could pick my husband and not care about how much money he made."
Isn't that a bit ridiculous that a child of 12 should be thinking like that?
I abhore the title of "girlfriend" and steer clear of anything that might resemble a relationship beyond friendship. I love my freedom and I hate feeling trapped by the fear that I might hurt someone because I no longer feel "love" for them....which is silly. I will always love anyone, but I may not want to be attached to them. I may want to fly off and be alone for a while. I may want to fly off and be with someone else. I would love to fly back to that person, but the culture we live in dictates that when those ties are broken we must either ignore them or try retying them ...which all seems rather frusterating since they only end up being broken again. Why can't we all just connect with "wireless?"
Anyhoo...that is my thought. That is my dilema. I can't decide what this all means. Should I allow myself to fall into the category of "girlfriend?" I know plenty of men who would like to label me as such (and I know that sounds stuck up, but guys only want a girl until she says "yes") Or, perhaps, giving up my freedom is something a little harder to grasp...so much so, I can't quite put my finger on it.
Hopefully it will come to me.
Until then....
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
At the Core People are Good
http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/ben_dunlap_talks_about_a_passionate_life.html
I really liked his tidbit about the human desire and quest for learning and that it is this zeal to quench the thirst of curiosity that makes life worth living.
Of course, one might argue that's a very western way of thinking (I've been reading Geography of Thought) and that the Easterners have a completely different take on that...as well as the need for personal responsibility and happiness, but whatever. There was a time when I would really try to synthesize all forms of thought into this single mind of mine, but the fact of the matter is that I happen to be a westerner. I was born and raised in Kansas and as a result, I enjoy spending my days asking and contemplating the hows and why's, no matter how impractical or inapplicable they seem.
Woot for curiosity!
I really liked his tidbit about the human desire and quest for learning and that it is this zeal to quench the thirst of curiosity that makes life worth living.
Of course, one might argue that's a very western way of thinking (I've been reading Geography of Thought) and that the Easterners have a completely different take on that...as well as the need for personal responsibility and happiness, but whatever. There was a time when I would really try to synthesize all forms of thought into this single mind of mine, but the fact of the matter is that I happen to be a westerner. I was born and raised in Kansas and as a result, I enjoy spending my days asking and contemplating the hows and why's, no matter how impractical or inapplicable they seem.
Woot for curiosity!
Monday, October 27, 2008
Feminism Outdated?
This is for all of those who would claim that feminism is outdated or perhaps even dead. For the sake of women and men alike, I surely hope it is not.
http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/isabel_allende_tells_tales_of_passion.html
Every individual carries within them the light of change and revolution. May we not forget that and continue to fight for equality and dignity for ALL human beings, regardless of race, gender, age or economic status. This is really quite simple, all it takes is a voice and the courage to use it. Once spoken I believe that we would be amazed just how many other voices will join with that voice. Just imagine, one voice convinces one voice and than that voice is joined with another voice and those voices than join with other voices...and you get the picture. What happens is a movement of beauty and peace is created and that is definately something worth talking about.
Viva la feminista!
http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/isabel_allende_tells_tales_of_passion.html
Every individual carries within them the light of change and revolution. May we not forget that and continue to fight for equality and dignity for ALL human beings, regardless of race, gender, age or economic status. This is really quite simple, all it takes is a voice and the courage to use it. Once spoken I believe that we would be amazed just how many other voices will join with that voice. Just imagine, one voice convinces one voice and than that voice is joined with another voice and those voices than join with other voices...and you get the picture. What happens is a movement of beauty and peace is created and that is definately something worth talking about.
Viva la feminista!
Just ignore the smoke...
Well it is a cold, rainy and nasty day here in Korea, which has given me the perfect excuse to curl up with yet another Paulo Coehlo book and waste the day away in my comfy WARM apartment.
Quick Update:
Last weekend I went to the horse races, lost my phone, danced the night away…again, ate some REAL chocolate cake, got a great shot if the Seoul Tower from the rooftop of the Soonhawk Women’s University, and ended the night waiting with Joey for the 6am train. We had intended to just stay the night at the local Jimjillbong (which is like a community bathhouse that allows people to stay the night on little mats strewn about a very large sauna), but something caught fire in the sauna which caused the whole area to fill with smoke. We got a refund, but there were still plenty of other people sleeping there since they had turned off the alarm. I guess there rational was purely bureaucratic. We were told that if the fire department showed up again they would be forced to shut down. Again, where is the logic here? I have to think that having to carry out a couple dead bodies that stopped functioning due to smoke inhalation would be a worse situation than having to deal with the fire department, but I’m just a crazy American, what do I know?
Classes were great this week because all of the students were having tests in the public schools which knocked out about 5 kids per class since they take their tests very seriously and needed to stay up studying for them rather attending the Hagwon. It was so peaceful and as much as I feel bad for the torture these kids have to go through with testing, I am eagerly looking forward to the next session, which is bound to happen soon. The Koreans love their tests. After an e-mail mom sent me an e-mail about Korean tests being delivered in an armor truck. Intrigued, I talked with Joey about it and he confirmed the test mania/paranoia. I guess at his University they put the entire building where the tests are held, on lock down and only a select group of people are allowed to enter through one door only. All this for a bunch of multiple choice questions that these kids won’t remember the moment they walk out of the testing room. Listening to Joey talk about his experience teaching here and witnessing the education process myself, I am convinced more and more how STUPID things like “No Child Left Behind” and standardized testing really are.
Regurgitation of information is not digestion of information, and though it’s easier, multiple choice tests are not good for digestion.
So that’s that. This weekend was pretty calm as I spent it just hiding out from the cold, reading, writing (that darn personal statement), discovering an AWSOME bakery called the Muslim Bakery that makes the best, I swear it must have dropped from heaven, baklava, buying yet another Paulo Coelho book, falling in love once again with the singer Idan Raichel, gorging myself on an Indian Buffet, and swinging from a hammock, digging my toes into the sand and getting drunk off some fabulous conversation in a bar full of foreigners, Koreans and cheesy beach memorabilia.
Good times.
Quick Update:
Last weekend I went to the horse races, lost my phone, danced the night away…again, ate some REAL chocolate cake, got a great shot if the Seoul Tower from the rooftop of the Soonhawk Women’s University, and ended the night waiting with Joey for the 6am train. We had intended to just stay the night at the local Jimjillbong (which is like a community bathhouse that allows people to stay the night on little mats strewn about a very large sauna), but something caught fire in the sauna which caused the whole area to fill with smoke. We got a refund, but there were still plenty of other people sleeping there since they had turned off the alarm. I guess there rational was purely bureaucratic. We were told that if the fire department showed up again they would be forced to shut down. Again, where is the logic here? I have to think that having to carry out a couple dead bodies that stopped functioning due to smoke inhalation would be a worse situation than having to deal with the fire department, but I’m just a crazy American, what do I know?
Classes were great this week because all of the students were having tests in the public schools which knocked out about 5 kids per class since they take their tests very seriously and needed to stay up studying for them rather attending the Hagwon. It was so peaceful and as much as I feel bad for the torture these kids have to go through with testing, I am eagerly looking forward to the next session, which is bound to happen soon. The Koreans love their tests. After an e-mail mom sent me an e-mail about Korean tests being delivered in an armor truck. Intrigued, I talked with Joey about it and he confirmed the test mania/paranoia. I guess at his University they put the entire building where the tests are held, on lock down and only a select group of people are allowed to enter through one door only. All this for a bunch of multiple choice questions that these kids won’t remember the moment they walk out of the testing room. Listening to Joey talk about his experience teaching here and witnessing the education process myself, I am convinced more and more how STUPID things like “No Child Left Behind” and standardized testing really are.
Regurgitation of information is not digestion of information, and though it’s easier, multiple choice tests are not good for digestion.
So that’s that. This weekend was pretty calm as I spent it just hiding out from the cold, reading, writing (that darn personal statement), discovering an AWSOME bakery called the Muslim Bakery that makes the best, I swear it must have dropped from heaven, baklava, buying yet another Paulo Coelho book, falling in love once again with the singer Idan Raichel, gorging myself on an Indian Buffet, and swinging from a hammock, digging my toes into the sand and getting drunk off some fabulous conversation in a bar full of foreigners, Koreans and cheesy beach memorabilia.
Good times.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
"Normal" vs. "Natural"
What is natural?
What about human behavior is natural?
Is sexism natural?
If sexism is natural than I suppose tribal warfare is natural.
Fine. I totally disagree with this statement, but for the sake of argument lets just say that war and misogyny are natural.
Somebody please tell me why such a statement like "it's only natural" makes it acceptable?
I fail to see the logic in this phrase and it pisses me off that in reality what we consider natural is really nothing more than what we humans have become used to seeing day in and day out. What we consider "natural" is only what is NORMAL and what is NORMAL can be changed.
As can anything "natural."
So please, tell me why the hell "it's only natural" is a justifiable argument for ANY form of oppression?!
What about human behavior is natural?
Is sexism natural?
If sexism is natural than I suppose tribal warfare is natural.
Fine. I totally disagree with this statement, but for the sake of argument lets just say that war and misogyny are natural.
Somebody please tell me why such a statement like "it's only natural" makes it acceptable?
I fail to see the logic in this phrase and it pisses me off that in reality what we consider natural is really nothing more than what we humans have become used to seeing day in and day out. What we consider "natural" is only what is NORMAL and what is NORMAL can be changed.
As can anything "natural."
So please, tell me why the hell "it's only natural" is a justifiable argument for ANY form of oppression?!
Monday, October 13, 2008
"Blink" and it's gone.
I just got done reading “Blink” by Malcolm Gladwell and it has definitely left me pondering upon the pros and cons of rapid cognition, otherwise known as intuition. He discusses how beneficial and correct a first impression can be-as long we are able to control the environment in which that cognition takes place and don’t allow outside stereotyping override our first impression...or the first two seconds of our thought pattern. Unfortunately, this is a rare thing to find and it seems that only people who have been extensively trained to first be cognitively aware of the subject of interest show any kind of accuracy in their first impression. For instance, only a person who has been trained in identifying a fake sculpture has any kind of ground on which to allow his/her intuition to take over. Gladwell uses the case of the Kuoros to prove that if that background is there than within the first two seconds a trained individual can make a more accurate judgment on the authenticity of the sculpture than months of research and pages of expert advice and opinion.
With the importance of first impressions strong in my mind, Gladwell than ends his book by citing the gender evolution of orchestra musicians. In the year 1980, no so long ago, there was a women by the name of Abbie Conant who auditioned for the Munich orchestra behind a screen. She did so well that immediately after her audition the other musicians were dismissed and she was called in to be hired…except that after seeing she was a woman the head conductor attempted to remit her acceptance and even told her it was because she was a women. In his mind, and that of most of the classical world at the time, women had no place within the world of classical orchestral music.
Fortunately, Abbie had some balls (or should I say ovaries) and fought it to the bitter end and won.
As a result auditions now have special requirements, such as screens, that bar judges from being able to identify the musician by race, age, or gender. This is of course very cool, but what is interesting is that before the screens were ever implemented most of these judges were very proud of their ability to focus “solely on the music” and screened out women not because they were women, but because from their first impression, women were simply not as good as men. They already had the preconceived notion that men were better musicians for various physical reasons such as lung capacity, and as a result just the visual stimulation of a man sent messages to the brain that he would be a better musician than a woman. It was not until this visual distraction was removed that judges were able to truly rely upon their first and very accurate impression.
The rate of women within the orchestra has now increased five fold from 1980.
That should say something about the stupidity of stereotyping, racism and sexism. On the other hand it also points out how unaware we are of these distractions and how the refusal to or simple ignorance of their existence has the potential to not only limit the opportunities of others, but even that of our own. Just think of all the people with amazing talents that never get a chance to share those simply because the world around them assumes that due to their race, age or gender, they have nothing to offer.
On the flip side, how many of us spend our days trying to fit into a specific stereotype? How many of us dress a certain way, eat certain things, say certain phrases in a conscious attempt to control the two second impression others have of us? How many of us hide behind that impression? How many of us are honest and perhaps cut our hair a certain way or wear a certain kind of brand to show how important we are, what political party we associate with, or how environmentally aware we are. I mean, we obviously are trying to convey a message to our fellow human beings, so is it so wrong if those around you take that message to heart? I mean, isn’t that why the girl in the Mowhawk spent hours in the mirror with a hand full of glue in the first place? She was wanting to make a non-verbal message…a rebellious, anarchist message first impression. With such an impression she might as well make a bat signal for the police.
I am all about people being able to express themselves. Any sort of repression does little but create tension and unrest. However, this book has got me thinking about how much freedom “freedom of expression” really allows us. So many people claim certain physical elements to be an expression of their identity, but perhaps that very expression is actually a limitation. I mean, if we all dressed the same, would our abilities of rapid cognition improve without the distractions of name brands, waist size and hairstyles? Or would we just start looking for other things to stereotype and pick out? I am going with the later. I wonder how it is in the Middle East with the women who wear the burka. I wonder if there are other forms of physical stereotyping there that we are not aware of simply because we lack the exposed and practiced eye. I wonder if the true characters of these women are more readily seen by her observers simply because the information of her clothes and beauty are not available to distract those first two seconds of rapid cognition. I really have no answers here,
I’m just thinking that as a human race I think it would all serve us very well to practice (because that is the secret behind success) looking beyond the distractions of first impressions and instead focus in on that real first impression. There is a difference. It is subtle, but it’s there, and with enough practice, Gladwell has shown, it can be more accurate than any well thought out scientifically proven conclusion.
With the importance of first impressions strong in my mind, Gladwell than ends his book by citing the gender evolution of orchestra musicians. In the year 1980, no so long ago, there was a women by the name of Abbie Conant who auditioned for the Munich orchestra behind a screen. She did so well that immediately after her audition the other musicians were dismissed and she was called in to be hired…except that after seeing she was a woman the head conductor attempted to remit her acceptance and even told her it was because she was a women. In his mind, and that of most of the classical world at the time, women had no place within the world of classical orchestral music.
Fortunately, Abbie had some balls (or should I say ovaries) and fought it to the bitter end and won.
As a result auditions now have special requirements, such as screens, that bar judges from being able to identify the musician by race, age, or gender. This is of course very cool, but what is interesting is that before the screens were ever implemented most of these judges were very proud of their ability to focus “solely on the music” and screened out women not because they were women, but because from their first impression, women were simply not as good as men. They already had the preconceived notion that men were better musicians for various physical reasons such as lung capacity, and as a result just the visual stimulation of a man sent messages to the brain that he would be a better musician than a woman. It was not until this visual distraction was removed that judges were able to truly rely upon their first and very accurate impression.
The rate of women within the orchestra has now increased five fold from 1980.
That should say something about the stupidity of stereotyping, racism and sexism. On the other hand it also points out how unaware we are of these distractions and how the refusal to or simple ignorance of their existence has the potential to not only limit the opportunities of others, but even that of our own. Just think of all the people with amazing talents that never get a chance to share those simply because the world around them assumes that due to their race, age or gender, they have nothing to offer.
On the flip side, how many of us spend our days trying to fit into a specific stereotype? How many of us dress a certain way, eat certain things, say certain phrases in a conscious attempt to control the two second impression others have of us? How many of us hide behind that impression? How many of us are honest and perhaps cut our hair a certain way or wear a certain kind of brand to show how important we are, what political party we associate with, or how environmentally aware we are. I mean, we obviously are trying to convey a message to our fellow human beings, so is it so wrong if those around you take that message to heart? I mean, isn’t that why the girl in the Mowhawk spent hours in the mirror with a hand full of glue in the first place? She was wanting to make a non-verbal message…a rebellious, anarchist message first impression. With such an impression she might as well make a bat signal for the police.
I am all about people being able to express themselves. Any sort of repression does little but create tension and unrest. However, this book has got me thinking about how much freedom “freedom of expression” really allows us. So many people claim certain physical elements to be an expression of their identity, but perhaps that very expression is actually a limitation. I mean, if we all dressed the same, would our abilities of rapid cognition improve without the distractions of name brands, waist size and hairstyles? Or would we just start looking for other things to stereotype and pick out? I am going with the later. I wonder how it is in the Middle East with the women who wear the burka. I wonder if there are other forms of physical stereotyping there that we are not aware of simply because we lack the exposed and practiced eye. I wonder if the true characters of these women are more readily seen by her observers simply because the information of her clothes and beauty are not available to distract those first two seconds of rapid cognition. I really have no answers here,
I’m just thinking that as a human race I think it would all serve us very well to practice (because that is the secret behind success) looking beyond the distractions of first impressions and instead focus in on that real first impression. There is a difference. It is subtle, but it’s there, and with enough practice, Gladwell has shown, it can be more accurate than any well thought out scientifically proven conclusion.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
student's shouldn't call teachers "baby"
OThe week here has been good, in spite of the “I wonder how much a plane ticket is outta of here” thought that flashed through my mind after my Thursday class. I don’t understand how indenting a paragraph and double spacing are such hard concepts to comprehend. I drew pictures. I had examples. I had them practicing the entire week how to do it so that come the in class essay, they would do it right…but did they?
Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.
Well, at least not most of them. I definitely have some smart students who were quick enough to pick up on the concept, but most of them were just oblivious and totally confused about what I was talking about. I have been pondering about why this is. I have a few ideas. First, the education system here is set up for test taking. Therefore students merely memorize and forget. Memorize and forget. The Long-term memory gets almost no attention. Furthermore, they are in school from 7am until 10pm and when they go home, they have to do homework. As a result, these kids are not getting the amount of sleep required for children their age. There is no way they spend enough time in R.E.M. and the lack of sleep, in any individual, is going to affect how effectively one takes and spits out information as well as the retention of it. It’s no wonder there is a stat about Korean’s working 50% more than the rest of the world but being 50% less effective. Just being at work or just being at school is not enough. You have to be engaged. Of course, this idea of being at work without being productive fits well into their obsession with appearances as well. I found out that there is even makeup for men…it’s called “color lotion.” Good grief. It’s funny that I, who never really wore a lot of makeup or heels in the first place, find myself almost adamantly going out in public on my off days in the most casual attire and my oldest sweatshirt just to bring a balance to this obsession with apparent perfection.
But on a positive note, I only have that one really bad class twice a week and the rest of them are actually doing alright. In fact, I find quite a few of them pretty entertaining. I have some great co-workers and now that we are at the 2-3 month mark, we’ve dropped the formality and it is actually kind of homey in our itty bitty office stuffed with 5 Koreans and 6 foreigners. Drew and I have also dubbed each other Key Master and Skywalker (thanks Bill) and in an effort to lift morale on those tough days, we give each other stickers. I know it sounds quite silly, but you have no idea how much one of those little sticky pieces of paper mean after a really difficult class. I also no longer feel like I have to worry about hurting a students feelings. Have a made a few cry? Yes. Yes I have, but they get over it and they cry so easily! I know that sounds awful, but what’s worse is the shot of pleasure I get when I make one of the “cool” kids do partner work with one of the “uncool” kids, or even just a boy with a girl. I don’t even bother listening to their protests anymore. They starting whining, I give them a look and they stop. I would like to go on about expanding their horizons and explain just how stupid and futile the politics of middle school are, but I know they won’t understand, so I just giggle to myself and smile that I am no longer that age.
And then there is the Albert instance. Albert is this really loud Korean student who for some reason has found favor in the eyes of Rose, the head teacher. He is a smart kid, but REALLY obnoxious. I don’t particularly enjoy his presence so when I was headed to class and encountered him harassing one of my students by stealing her phone I had no problem laying down the law and getting it back to her. He proceeded to say over and over “fuck you fuck you.” Whatever. I didn’t even give it a second thought. I guess all that time at Sterling 24 desensitized me to such comments. It wasn’t until I mentioned it in passing to Rose that I realized that perhaps I should have punished him for that. Rose said she would take care of it and the next day Albert came in and told me he was sorry and that he was actually talking to his friend. Okay, that’s fine…except for the fact that he followed the apology up with “baby.” I had to ask the teachers around if that is really what he said, and they said yes indeed, my ears did not betray me. I couldn’t believe that! Rose informed me that he said that to everyone, but I don’t care. Thanks to many a dramatic T.V. show and video game, I am sure he thinks it is a polite or kind word to add at the end of sentence, but I did not understand why no one had corrected him. I did not understand why Rose was okay with that. I suppose that is just another thing to address.
Weeeeeeeeee. Bringing the fist of feminism to South Korea. I love it!
So that’s that. The weekend was good. I met up with a friend on Friday and chatted away over tea, pringles and horoscopes. I tried some odd street food with Joey in Insadong and almost had the guts to try out the silkworms, but decided the octopus dumpling and squid jerky (which is really quite delicious) was enough for the day. We also went to this great instrument shop that smelled of pine and where every inch was filled with guitars, pianos, mandolins and more. It made me miss my little brothers. We then got thoroughly lost, but since we are both good sports about such adventures, it was a good time. He discussed the Korean obsession with money which I found interesting. This obsession with money has not always been, but like I’ve said before, the U.S. exports the very worst of it’s culture and this is then exacerbated abroad. I saw it in Latin America and I see it here. It’s a shame that in one of my classes we discussed money and I was amazed that even after reading an article showing how money does not increase levels of happiness and may actually decrease it, ¾ of my students sill equated the Won with happiness. Incredible.
That is all, but before I go, I have to put a little plug in for my little brother. The great Stevie G will be playing November 22, 2008 at the Granada Theater in Lawrence Kansas. Everyone should go and check and him out. He’s really quite good…and I promise I’m not just saying that because I’m his big sister. If anything, the most honest of opinions come from me for that very reason.
Peace!
Michelle
Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.
Well, at least not most of them. I definitely have some smart students who were quick enough to pick up on the concept, but most of them were just oblivious and totally confused about what I was talking about. I have been pondering about why this is. I have a few ideas. First, the education system here is set up for test taking. Therefore students merely memorize and forget. Memorize and forget. The Long-term memory gets almost no attention. Furthermore, they are in school from 7am until 10pm and when they go home, they have to do homework. As a result, these kids are not getting the amount of sleep required for children their age. There is no way they spend enough time in R.E.M. and the lack of sleep, in any individual, is going to affect how effectively one takes and spits out information as well as the retention of it. It’s no wonder there is a stat about Korean’s working 50% more than the rest of the world but being 50% less effective. Just being at work or just being at school is not enough. You have to be engaged. Of course, this idea of being at work without being productive fits well into their obsession with appearances as well. I found out that there is even makeup for men…it’s called “color lotion.” Good grief. It’s funny that I, who never really wore a lot of makeup or heels in the first place, find myself almost adamantly going out in public on my off days in the most casual attire and my oldest sweatshirt just to bring a balance to this obsession with apparent perfection.
But on a positive note, I only have that one really bad class twice a week and the rest of them are actually doing alright. In fact, I find quite a few of them pretty entertaining. I have some great co-workers and now that we are at the 2-3 month mark, we’ve dropped the formality and it is actually kind of homey in our itty bitty office stuffed with 5 Koreans and 6 foreigners. Drew and I have also dubbed each other Key Master and Skywalker (thanks Bill) and in an effort to lift morale on those tough days, we give each other stickers. I know it sounds quite silly, but you have no idea how much one of those little sticky pieces of paper mean after a really difficult class. I also no longer feel like I have to worry about hurting a students feelings. Have a made a few cry? Yes. Yes I have, but they get over it and they cry so easily! I know that sounds awful, but what’s worse is the shot of pleasure I get when I make one of the “cool” kids do partner work with one of the “uncool” kids, or even just a boy with a girl. I don’t even bother listening to their protests anymore. They starting whining, I give them a look and they stop. I would like to go on about expanding their horizons and explain just how stupid and futile the politics of middle school are, but I know they won’t understand, so I just giggle to myself and smile that I am no longer that age.
And then there is the Albert instance. Albert is this really loud Korean student who for some reason has found favor in the eyes of Rose, the head teacher. He is a smart kid, but REALLY obnoxious. I don’t particularly enjoy his presence so when I was headed to class and encountered him harassing one of my students by stealing her phone I had no problem laying down the law and getting it back to her. He proceeded to say over and over “fuck you fuck you.” Whatever. I didn’t even give it a second thought. I guess all that time at Sterling 24 desensitized me to such comments. It wasn’t until I mentioned it in passing to Rose that I realized that perhaps I should have punished him for that. Rose said she would take care of it and the next day Albert came in and told me he was sorry and that he was actually talking to his friend. Okay, that’s fine…except for the fact that he followed the apology up with “baby.” I had to ask the teachers around if that is really what he said, and they said yes indeed, my ears did not betray me. I couldn’t believe that! Rose informed me that he said that to everyone, but I don’t care. Thanks to many a dramatic T.V. show and video game, I am sure he thinks it is a polite or kind word to add at the end of sentence, but I did not understand why no one had corrected him. I did not understand why Rose was okay with that. I suppose that is just another thing to address.
Weeeeeeeeee. Bringing the fist of feminism to South Korea. I love it!
So that’s that. The weekend was good. I met up with a friend on Friday and chatted away over tea, pringles and horoscopes. I tried some odd street food with Joey in Insadong and almost had the guts to try out the silkworms, but decided the octopus dumpling and squid jerky (which is really quite delicious) was enough for the day. We also went to this great instrument shop that smelled of pine and where every inch was filled with guitars, pianos, mandolins and more. It made me miss my little brothers. We then got thoroughly lost, but since we are both good sports about such adventures, it was a good time. He discussed the Korean obsession with money which I found interesting. This obsession with money has not always been, but like I’ve said before, the U.S. exports the very worst of it’s culture and this is then exacerbated abroad. I saw it in Latin America and I see it here. It’s a shame that in one of my classes we discussed money and I was amazed that even after reading an article showing how money does not increase levels of happiness and may actually decrease it, ¾ of my students sill equated the Won with happiness. Incredible.
That is all, but before I go, I have to put a little plug in for my little brother. The great Stevie G will be playing November 22, 2008 at the Granada Theater in Lawrence Kansas. Everyone should go and check and him out. He’s really quite good…and I promise I’m not just saying that because I’m his big sister. If anything, the most honest of opinions come from me for that very reason.
Peace!
Michelle
Deep Thoughts...
So why is it that in Korea a woman can wear an itty bitty skirt, like the kind you don't sit down in, paired with stiletto heels to work or a meeting with the parents, yet if the shoulders are exposed, well, that is simply too scandalous. There can be no shoulder exposure. The style of dress here even accounts for it. There are tons of these funky shirts created to cover just that. Just the shoulders. Everything else can be exposed, but those shoulders, you better keep them under wraps. They seem to be the equivalent of the Victorian ankle...except that at least the Victorians could sit down. I suppose that might be way I see so many stored selling glittery underwear.
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...this is a mystery I shall have to look into further.
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...this is a mystery I shall have to look into further.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Capitalism and the Abortion of Thoughts
I’m currently reading this book entitled “Blink.” It is a fascinating collection and commentary on various psychology/cultural studies concerning the effects of the unconscious upon our everyday lives. It is quite good and has had me thinking a lot. Right now, at this very moment, I just got done reading about advertisement, business and how things like “field testing” actually have the habit of LIMITING our choices as consumers rather than increasing them as this bit of capitalism likes to boast. For example, let’s take the very familiar and very popular show, Mary Tyler Moore. This show completely failed in field studies and only aired the first time because it had already been scheduled. The same goes for All in the Family. People hated both of these classic shows at first, but only because they offered something different from the "I love Lucy" and "Leave it to Beaver" diet they were used to. A similar thing happened with the Aeron chair and musicians like Kenna. These were all great additions to our society, but they were predicted to fail due to these faulty pilot studies that only take a small slice of the population, expose them to about three minutes of the product and expect them to give an honest opinion about it. From there, producers decide whether or not to spend the time and money needed to expose and air a T.V. show, music, or product. Well, we are creatures of habit and it seems to only be natural that we have a kind of aversion to anything too different. If it doesn’t fit into one of the many categories already established in our brain, we turn away from it. It is only through continual exposure can we truly decide if the product is worth our attention. It is not like we necessarily get used to BAD things. The introduction of “New Coke” is a good example, or the numerous deaths of various “popular” songs on the radio waves. They are just bad, and like junk food, at first it might taste real good and familiar, but it quickly loses it’s flavor. Something GOOD will stick around, like a good home cooked meal. I am going on about this because I was just thinking about how it’s the new and different that are the most venerable to the nay saying of market research. I think this has resulted in an apathetic culture that is no longer challenged, on a mass level, with new perspectives and ideals, hence the lack of new and thought provoking tv programs, movies and music in pop culture. These different, revolutionary ways of thinking do not do well in market pilot testing, and therefore, no matter the benefit and enjoyment the product may promise, it is killed before it even gets a chance to breathe the air of exposure. In a sense all of this thought out, numerically run market research is doing nothing more than performing a kind of capitalistic abortion upon an infinite number of ideas and that never get the chance to grow out of the embryonic stage of development. Therefore all the contributions that might have been, are quickly lost and obliterated by the empty and familiar world of bubble gum pop and predictable, thoughtless, Hollywood drama.
Solution: Kill your television. Kill Top 40. Support your local scene. Go beyond your local scene. Go beyond your radio dial and THINK!
Solution: Kill your television. Kill Top 40. Support your local scene. Go beyond your local scene. Go beyond your radio dial and THINK!
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
You Tubing It...
Yes, dad it is a liberal site, but even this liberal site is based on and cites factual videos/information...which is more than what I can say for McCain and his ideas of deregulation. Watch it BEFORE you vote!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
http://my.barackobama.com/keatingvideo
Where have these guys been all my life?! Yummy ear goodies.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lRijgRZmqvI
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hip2i9yHZ38&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i0PWukxRV8U
Tired of thinking? Prozoft is for YOU!!!!!!
(a fantastic satire/info about pharmaceuticals)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eLef9G1PJ7s&feature=user
http://my.barackobama.com/keatingvideo
Where have these guys been all my life?! Yummy ear goodies.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lRijgRZmqvI
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hip2i9yHZ38&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i0PWukxRV8U
Tired of thinking? Prozoft is for YOU!!!!!!
(a fantastic satire/info about pharmaceuticals)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eLef9G1PJ7s&feature=user
Sunday, October 5, 2008
I can't use tab in this blog, but I DO know how to indent...
Things have settled down in the Hagwon concerning overtime, but payday is soon so we’ll see what happens there. The rest of the week was spent trying to teach the kiddos how to write an essay. I was amazed at how hard it was for these kids to understand a concept as simple as “indent” and “double space.” I could not comprehend how some of these kids were pros at things like calculus, but completely incompetent at putting two spaces before a paragraph. It was very frustrating and finally I was tired of being patient and nice.
After the first class I simply explained the concept, drew a diagram on the board (which they all had in their books), had them write a small 200 word essay and then had them bring it up to me to check. With my Bic machete in hand I tore up most their papers with red ink and had them write the essay at least twice, if not three or four times until it was right. Oh, and I also tore up a kids paper in class because he was copying the essay straight out of a book right there in front of me. There is a reason why there is next to nothing in the way of copyright laws here in Korea. It is all about appearances. I suppose if you know how to make it look good, forget the content.
That seems to the rule for their music and entertainment too, but I ramble.
In my high level classes I had to do the same thing with the addition of paragraph organization. In Asian literature it is common for authors to write in a circular pattern. They write around the subject, not necessarily on the subject, until the very end when they finally make their point. This is in stark contrast to the Anglo-Western writing style where we follow a kind of pyramid logic. As a result, the Asian style of writing just looks like complete chaos to us Anglos. I know that their writing style is an expression of their cultures emphasis on politeness and respect, but if these kids want to go to an English speaking university someday (and most of them do) they have got to learn how to organize their thoughts.
Therefore, since repetition seems to be the Asian way, I made them rewrite their essays again and again until they got it right…which none of them really did, but that’s okay. We have another week of this so HOPEFULLY some of these concepts will get through their heads. But I don’t know, some of these kids have skulls thicker than the cement blocks on my apartment building.
There also seems to be lots of “secret meetings” going on, but Joey assured me, nothing in them gets done. On a happier note, Jessica, my first problem child from my first month of teaching, is now in Drew’s class and he had his own issues with her; so bad in fact that she was sent to the director. I felt bad for Drew, especially since I have developed this kind of quirky almost sibling like relationship with him, but I also felt justified and that is always nice. AND I finally got my absentee ballot. Whoot! I will let you all think and ponder about who I voted for, it’s a real mystery I’m sure.
As for the weekend, we got Friday off for the mythical creation day of this country when the Gods dropped some dirt on the earth below and called it Korea. I met up with some of the other foreign teachers, rolled my eyes at how stupid some of them were to think that yelling at a girl passing by was somehow attractive, met a group of Mexicans, another group of Englishmen and one Irishman (who was very charming and according to the Englishmen, that is to be expected since all Irishmen are born dripping in charm. This may be true, but I think it has more with growing up in a culture where there is a history and mythology built around women who refuse to put up with the idiocy of men and have been known to send ravens to peck men to death who don’t get it...the accent helps too), I had a great time chatting with all of them, and became friends with Brian, a gay expat from the U.S. who I went dancing with the next day. Yay! I also met up with Joey and went to an unexpected international food festival; tried some Peruvian drink called Maca and wandered around a Latin American Art exhibit where I got to see Diego Rivera and some paintings by Frida Kahlo. We also toured the temple in Seoul, which was beautiful, and climbed over a fence to sit in some in grass (plots of grass are hard to come by in Seoul) and nibbled on some chocolate chip cookies. I also got to try my foot, yes my foot, at one of these “foot massage” paths they have set up at various parks. These paths are just different grades of smooth stones lined up so as you walk down the path it massages the various pressure points on your feet. It was far from comfortable, but my feet definitely felt better afterward.
That’s my week. The rest of it has been spent reading this awesome book “Blink.” I really am enjoying this read since it goes into the unconscious not from a mysterious, misogynistic, mythological Freudian perspective, but more from a scientific we are figuring out how to measure it, perspective. Basically, and I recommend everybody read this book, the author cites various studies acknowledging the existence of the unconscious and our superb ability to make quick snap judgments on limited conscious cognitive processing. This is commonly known as using your intuition. He also talks about the importance of our environment shaping those judgments and how certain things can short circuit “correct” intuition and create disasters, such as the election of Warren Harding who, by many historian’s accounts, ended up being the worst U.S. president in history but, because of his good looks and charm (he was tall, handsome, and had a booming voice that hid his poor character, lack of intelligence and applicable experience), was elected into office simply because he LOOKED like a leader. We humans are pretty susceptible to preconceived notions concerning appearance, hence racism, sexism, and the "height" bias that experts say entitle men six feet or taller to an extra 800.00 a month in comparison to the salary of their shorter co-workers. Fascinating. I am sure I could bore you all with more details about more studies concerning race and gender, but suffice to say, the brain is extremely mutable and never underestimate the importance of positive human communication and interaction in your life. We might not always be able to control our unconscious, but we do have the ability to change our environment, at least to a certain extent, and THAT is how we can influence and improve our intuition/state of mind...or that is one point the book argues, and it makes a good argument.
Peace!
Michelle
After the first class I simply explained the concept, drew a diagram on the board (which they all had in their books), had them write a small 200 word essay and then had them bring it up to me to check. With my Bic machete in hand I tore up most their papers with red ink and had them write the essay at least twice, if not three or four times until it was right. Oh, and I also tore up a kids paper in class because he was copying the essay straight out of a book right there in front of me. There is a reason why there is next to nothing in the way of copyright laws here in Korea. It is all about appearances. I suppose if you know how to make it look good, forget the content.
That seems to the rule for their music and entertainment too, but I ramble.
In my high level classes I had to do the same thing with the addition of paragraph organization. In Asian literature it is common for authors to write in a circular pattern. They write around the subject, not necessarily on the subject, until the very end when they finally make their point. This is in stark contrast to the Anglo-Western writing style where we follow a kind of pyramid logic. As a result, the Asian style of writing just looks like complete chaos to us Anglos. I know that their writing style is an expression of their cultures emphasis on politeness and respect, but if these kids want to go to an English speaking university someday (and most of them do) they have got to learn how to organize their thoughts.
Therefore, since repetition seems to be the Asian way, I made them rewrite their essays again and again until they got it right…which none of them really did, but that’s okay. We have another week of this so HOPEFULLY some of these concepts will get through their heads. But I don’t know, some of these kids have skulls thicker than the cement blocks on my apartment building.
There also seems to be lots of “secret meetings” going on, but Joey assured me, nothing in them gets done. On a happier note, Jessica, my first problem child from my first month of teaching, is now in Drew’s class and he had his own issues with her; so bad in fact that she was sent to the director. I felt bad for Drew, especially since I have developed this kind of quirky almost sibling like relationship with him, but I also felt justified and that is always nice. AND I finally got my absentee ballot. Whoot! I will let you all think and ponder about who I voted for, it’s a real mystery I’m sure.
As for the weekend, we got Friday off for the mythical creation day of this country when the Gods dropped some dirt on the earth below and called it Korea. I met up with some of the other foreign teachers, rolled my eyes at how stupid some of them were to think that yelling at a girl passing by was somehow attractive, met a group of Mexicans, another group of Englishmen and one Irishman (who was very charming and according to the Englishmen, that is to be expected since all Irishmen are born dripping in charm. This may be true, but I think it has more with growing up in a culture where there is a history and mythology built around women who refuse to put up with the idiocy of men and have been known to send ravens to peck men to death who don’t get it...the accent helps too), I had a great time chatting with all of them, and became friends with Brian, a gay expat from the U.S. who I went dancing with the next day. Yay! I also met up with Joey and went to an unexpected international food festival; tried some Peruvian drink called Maca and wandered around a Latin American Art exhibit where I got to see Diego Rivera and some paintings by Frida Kahlo. We also toured the temple in Seoul, which was beautiful, and climbed over a fence to sit in some in grass (plots of grass are hard to come by in Seoul) and nibbled on some chocolate chip cookies. I also got to try my foot, yes my foot, at one of these “foot massage” paths they have set up at various parks. These paths are just different grades of smooth stones lined up so as you walk down the path it massages the various pressure points on your feet. It was far from comfortable, but my feet definitely felt better afterward.
That’s my week. The rest of it has been spent reading this awesome book “Blink.” I really am enjoying this read since it goes into the unconscious not from a mysterious, misogynistic, mythological Freudian perspective, but more from a scientific we are figuring out how to measure it, perspective. Basically, and I recommend everybody read this book, the author cites various studies acknowledging the existence of the unconscious and our superb ability to make quick snap judgments on limited conscious cognitive processing. This is commonly known as using your intuition. He also talks about the importance of our environment shaping those judgments and how certain things can short circuit “correct” intuition and create disasters, such as the election of Warren Harding who, by many historian’s accounts, ended up being the worst U.S. president in history but, because of his good looks and charm (he was tall, handsome, and had a booming voice that hid his poor character, lack of intelligence and applicable experience), was elected into office simply because he LOOKED like a leader. We humans are pretty susceptible to preconceived notions concerning appearance, hence racism, sexism, and the "height" bias that experts say entitle men six feet or taller to an extra 800.00 a month in comparison to the salary of their shorter co-workers. Fascinating. I am sure I could bore you all with more details about more studies concerning race and gender, but suffice to say, the brain is extremely mutable and never underestimate the importance of positive human communication and interaction in your life. We might not always be able to control our unconscious, but we do have the ability to change our environment, at least to a certain extent, and THAT is how we can influence and improve our intuition/state of mind...or that is one point the book argues, and it makes a good argument.
Peace!
Michelle
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Feeling the Crunch and Taking on the Man
Hello All!
So how is the great old U.S. of A? I hear that there seems to be quite a bit of chaos going on there thanks to the intelligence of Wall Street and the ingenious economic policies set forth by the current administration. Wasn’t it a republican who was in office when Wall Street fell about 80 years ago? So much for “economic responsibility” being their creed…that is if you believe actions and fruits speak louder than words. Then again, what to do I know, I’m just a kid playing teacher.
Korea is good, although I know they have been hard hit by the economic crisis in the U.S. too. This became apparent when on Thursday the head foreign teacher called us for a meeting and informed us that we would no longer be getting paid overtime.
I had started the day with a smile. I was eager to get to my lessons and still on a high from the Friday before when my class literally applauded my arrival. They had had a different teacher the week before due to poor scheduling, and they were ecstatic that I was to be their new teacher from now on. Let me tell ya, there is nothing that will put your teacher in a better mood than a standing ovation upon their arrival. On the same note, there is nothing that will put them in a worse mood than finding out that the extra hours they are working are no longer going to be compensated.
I was livid when I heard this and I made it very clear that I was not going to stand for it. I know in Korea contracts are not really taken seriously, but the way things are going right now, if I were to not get paid overtime I could be making the same amount of money in the U.S. for the hours I am putting in. The reaction of the other teachers wasn’t quite so vocal as my own, but nobody was happy about it. The head teacher claimed it was out of her hands, so I promptly told her that I would like to talk to the director myself.
Thankfully God places random people in our paths for not so random reasons and with that in mind I e-mailed Joey, a teacher/trainer at a University in Seoul that I had met the week before in Hongdae. I informed him of my current situation and asked for his advice. (Quick Sidenote: Joey is really cool and we totally bonded over the fact that he had worked in Ecuador years before and set up an English school there. He is also from Idaho, so he is familiar with some of the quirkiness of Mormons and had some good stories and jokes to share. He is also a psychology graduate now TOESOL instructor and NOT looking for a girlfriend….so we had a great time with none of that weird “I hope he doesn’t think I want to be his girlfriend” awkwardness that tends to accompany many first encounters of the male kind.) Since he’s been around the block a few times here in Korea he assured me that I was not overacting and that the school did not a have a right to do that and that there were indeed organizations around that could help me, or if it came down to it, he could find me another job. I was not stuck. I was worried about the whole visa thing, but he calmed my fears.
With this as a kind of security cushion I went into the office of the director on Friday and informed him of my frustration. Danny, that’s his name, is a good guy and I like him as a boss and person. I know it’s not his fault that this is happening, the orders come from the main office, but since the guys at the top do not speak English (yet they run an English Hagwon…go figure) Danny has to be the go between. As a result I just made it very clear that I was not stuck, that none of the teachers were stuck, and that if we wanted to we could leave at any time. Furthermore, in our contract, at the time of our signing it, we were to be paid overtime for working more than 6 teaching hours a day. When we signed the contract it was our understanding that each class was 2 teaching hours. The main office was a attempting to change that even though across the board at other hagwons, this is the norm. It is a bad business move, but that is beside the point. It is a breach of my contract and even though I have really become attached to some of the kids and I’ve become pretty comfortable with my apartment and surroundings, I am not about to sit passively by while someone tries to take advantage of me. No way. I don’t know if there is anything that makes me more angry…except for lying…which is just another way of taking advantage of my gullibility and optimism. Gratefully, I didn’t have throw a big production as Danny took my concerns to heart and ended the meeting with “Please have some patience, this weekend I go to war (referring to his meeting with the main office) on Monday I will tell you what they say."
I offered to buy him a Samuri Sword, he almost took me up on the offer.
I left smiling and feeling like the conqueror (in the words of Danny…my brother). However, as Monday draws closer I am feeling the uncertainty starting to gnaw at me. I’ve worked for big corporations before and I know how they work. I know that most times the only concern they have is the immediate dollar. Long term thinking/goal setting and employee satisfaction is the last thing on their minds…even though focusing on these items would ensure greater dollar amounts and security. The Big Guys tend to be so far removed from the actual work of their company that due to the distance they are ill equipped to make any kind of intelligent decisions concerning employee compensation, work or schedules.
Yay for capitalism.
So that is the current issue that I have on my plate. Other than this mammoth of an issue, everything else is good. The middle school English teachers have the week off due to the Korean testing that their students are taking to level up in public school, so they’ve been available to pick up some of the hours. That’s been nice. I also am feeling more and more at home with my classes and everyday they are acting more and more on par with my own expectations of behavior. The majority of them really are quite intelligent and want to learn, it is just a matter of getting those that don’t, to just shut-up…and that seems to be happening more everyday. I also found another salsa club thanks to a woman I met named Jody and a cab ride with the ONLY cautious/slow taxi driver in the entire country of Korea due to the shut down of the subways at midnight. There I met a Korean dance instructor who pulled me into this production called a Rudeo. Basically three guys and three girls dance salsa while switching partners and moving clockwise around this invisible circle. One of my friends compared it to a “salsa hoedown”. I simply felt like I had been thrown into a blender, but it was thrilling none the less. Before the night was over my foot was mauled twice by someone wearing those stupid stilettos and I got hit in the head once…but that is the norm. If these things don’t happen, than you’re not dancing enough. I also ran into a guy from Puerto Rico and once again I had to note how different the style of dance is between Latinos and Koreans. If there is any one act that can sum up the overarching theme of any culture, it is the form with which they dance. Every Korean I dance with is excellent, but the dance is much more uptight and regimented than anything I dance when I am looking a Latino in the eye on the dance floor. (Koreans rarely look you in the eye) I don’t have a preference for either form, I just thought it interesting how apparent the differences are.
The following evening I hung out with Matt, the bearded man from New York who I went to Guam with, watched “Hot Fuzz” a quirky British comedy and then headed out to a Noribong. One MUST try out a Noribong while in Korea. It practically IS Korea. “Nori” means “sing” and “Bong” means “room”. So “Noribong” means “singing room”. Am I talking about Karaoke? Yes. That is exactly what it is, except that in Korea one gets a private room to sing karaoke in rather than just a space at the front of a bar. There are couches, and tables, and some places serve drinks and others just serve food. It’s a pretty big deal, and people actually become famous for being good “Noribongers”. For myself, I don’t see any hit albums coming out anytime soon, but I did have a blast and Matt was a great partner to have in the jam session.
Oh, I also found out that “salsa” said with a soft “ah” means “poopy” water in Korean. I found this out as I explained to my class that I liked salsa. I had to have them explain to me why they were all laughing. Ooops. What I don’t understand, is why on earth they have a specific word for that kind of water. Hmmmmmm. Think about that one.
Okay. That is all for now. I’m still filling up time with grad school stuff and I hope and pray that all works out well with the hagwon, but if it doesn’t, I guess I will just have to find another window to crawl through, and that’s okay. Or that’s how I’m feeling right now. I’ve been reading a lot of Paulo Coelho and that has put me in a pretty positive state of mind, in spite of the cold cloudiness that has recently taken over South Korea. We’ll see how long that lasts.
So how is the great old U.S. of A? I hear that there seems to be quite a bit of chaos going on there thanks to the intelligence of Wall Street and the ingenious economic policies set forth by the current administration. Wasn’t it a republican who was in office when Wall Street fell about 80 years ago? So much for “economic responsibility” being their creed…that is if you believe actions and fruits speak louder than words. Then again, what to do I know, I’m just a kid playing teacher.
Korea is good, although I know they have been hard hit by the economic crisis in the U.S. too. This became apparent when on Thursday the head foreign teacher called us for a meeting and informed us that we would no longer be getting paid overtime.
I had started the day with a smile. I was eager to get to my lessons and still on a high from the Friday before when my class literally applauded my arrival. They had had a different teacher the week before due to poor scheduling, and they were ecstatic that I was to be their new teacher from now on. Let me tell ya, there is nothing that will put your teacher in a better mood than a standing ovation upon their arrival. On the same note, there is nothing that will put them in a worse mood than finding out that the extra hours they are working are no longer going to be compensated.
I was livid when I heard this and I made it very clear that I was not going to stand for it. I know in Korea contracts are not really taken seriously, but the way things are going right now, if I were to not get paid overtime I could be making the same amount of money in the U.S. for the hours I am putting in. The reaction of the other teachers wasn’t quite so vocal as my own, but nobody was happy about it. The head teacher claimed it was out of her hands, so I promptly told her that I would like to talk to the director myself.
Thankfully God places random people in our paths for not so random reasons and with that in mind I e-mailed Joey, a teacher/trainer at a University in Seoul that I had met the week before in Hongdae. I informed him of my current situation and asked for his advice. (Quick Sidenote: Joey is really cool and we totally bonded over the fact that he had worked in Ecuador years before and set up an English school there. He is also from Idaho, so he is familiar with some of the quirkiness of Mormons and had some good stories and jokes to share. He is also a psychology graduate now TOESOL instructor and NOT looking for a girlfriend….so we had a great time with none of that weird “I hope he doesn’t think I want to be his girlfriend” awkwardness that tends to accompany many first encounters of the male kind.) Since he’s been around the block a few times here in Korea he assured me that I was not overacting and that the school did not a have a right to do that and that there were indeed organizations around that could help me, or if it came down to it, he could find me another job. I was not stuck. I was worried about the whole visa thing, but he calmed my fears.
With this as a kind of security cushion I went into the office of the director on Friday and informed him of my frustration. Danny, that’s his name, is a good guy and I like him as a boss and person. I know it’s not his fault that this is happening, the orders come from the main office, but since the guys at the top do not speak English (yet they run an English Hagwon…go figure) Danny has to be the go between. As a result I just made it very clear that I was not stuck, that none of the teachers were stuck, and that if we wanted to we could leave at any time. Furthermore, in our contract, at the time of our signing it, we were to be paid overtime for working more than 6 teaching hours a day. When we signed the contract it was our understanding that each class was 2 teaching hours. The main office was a attempting to change that even though across the board at other hagwons, this is the norm. It is a bad business move, but that is beside the point. It is a breach of my contract and even though I have really become attached to some of the kids and I’ve become pretty comfortable with my apartment and surroundings, I am not about to sit passively by while someone tries to take advantage of me. No way. I don’t know if there is anything that makes me more angry…except for lying…which is just another way of taking advantage of my gullibility and optimism. Gratefully, I didn’t have throw a big production as Danny took my concerns to heart and ended the meeting with “Please have some patience, this weekend I go to war (referring to his meeting with the main office) on Monday I will tell you what they say."
I offered to buy him a Samuri Sword, he almost took me up on the offer.
I left smiling and feeling like the conqueror (in the words of Danny…my brother). However, as Monday draws closer I am feeling the uncertainty starting to gnaw at me. I’ve worked for big corporations before and I know how they work. I know that most times the only concern they have is the immediate dollar. Long term thinking/goal setting and employee satisfaction is the last thing on their minds…even though focusing on these items would ensure greater dollar amounts and security. The Big Guys tend to be so far removed from the actual work of their company that due to the distance they are ill equipped to make any kind of intelligent decisions concerning employee compensation, work or schedules.
Yay for capitalism.
So that is the current issue that I have on my plate. Other than this mammoth of an issue, everything else is good. The middle school English teachers have the week off due to the Korean testing that their students are taking to level up in public school, so they’ve been available to pick up some of the hours. That’s been nice. I also am feeling more and more at home with my classes and everyday they are acting more and more on par with my own expectations of behavior. The majority of them really are quite intelligent and want to learn, it is just a matter of getting those that don’t, to just shut-up…and that seems to be happening more everyday. I also found another salsa club thanks to a woman I met named Jody and a cab ride with the ONLY cautious/slow taxi driver in the entire country of Korea due to the shut down of the subways at midnight. There I met a Korean dance instructor who pulled me into this production called a Rudeo. Basically three guys and three girls dance salsa while switching partners and moving clockwise around this invisible circle. One of my friends compared it to a “salsa hoedown”. I simply felt like I had been thrown into a blender, but it was thrilling none the less. Before the night was over my foot was mauled twice by someone wearing those stupid stilettos and I got hit in the head once…but that is the norm. If these things don’t happen, than you’re not dancing enough. I also ran into a guy from Puerto Rico and once again I had to note how different the style of dance is between Latinos and Koreans. If there is any one act that can sum up the overarching theme of any culture, it is the form with which they dance. Every Korean I dance with is excellent, but the dance is much more uptight and regimented than anything I dance when I am looking a Latino in the eye on the dance floor. (Koreans rarely look you in the eye) I don’t have a preference for either form, I just thought it interesting how apparent the differences are.
The following evening I hung out with Matt, the bearded man from New York who I went to Guam with, watched “Hot Fuzz” a quirky British comedy and then headed out to a Noribong. One MUST try out a Noribong while in Korea. It practically IS Korea. “Nori” means “sing” and “Bong” means “room”. So “Noribong” means “singing room”. Am I talking about Karaoke? Yes. That is exactly what it is, except that in Korea one gets a private room to sing karaoke in rather than just a space at the front of a bar. There are couches, and tables, and some places serve drinks and others just serve food. It’s a pretty big deal, and people actually become famous for being good “Noribongers”. For myself, I don’t see any hit albums coming out anytime soon, but I did have a blast and Matt was a great partner to have in the jam session.
Oh, I also found out that “salsa” said with a soft “ah” means “poopy” water in Korean. I found this out as I explained to my class that I liked salsa. I had to have them explain to me why they were all laughing. Ooops. What I don’t understand, is why on earth they have a specific word for that kind of water. Hmmmmmm. Think about that one.
Okay. That is all for now. I’m still filling up time with grad school stuff and I hope and pray that all works out well with the hagwon, but if it doesn’t, I guess I will just have to find another window to crawl through, and that’s okay. Or that’s how I’m feeling right now. I’ve been reading a lot of Paulo Coelho and that has put me in a pretty positive state of mind, in spite of the cold cloudiness that has recently taken over South Korea. We’ll see how long that lasts.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
an ode to airports
I love to travel and one of the great parts of travel are the airports one must swim through. I had this reconfirmed as I stepped off the flight from Kansas City to Denver and wound my way around the airport to find my connecting flight to SLC. It was just this thrill. This fun, “who knows what’s going to happen” thrill that I always get when I step off any plane. It’s the endless amount of visual and olfactory stimulation I receive in one concentrated place. For instance, where else am I going to run into a woman in her forties with bright red hair, facial piercings and gothic apparel sitting right next to a balding old man wearing a pinstriped suit all accompanied by the sweet scent of CinnaBuns. I love it! Airports are kind of like people museums. On the way to the airport, during one of our many “lively” debates, my dad made the distinction that each person is like a work of art. This is one point we could agree on. Watching people and understanding them is no different than admiring a DaVinci or Andy Warhol exhibition in some upscale New York art museum. Whether it be a flight to Mexico, Ecuador or Colorado it is always the same. And because there are no heights involved, I find it to be a more enjoyable thrill than any six flags roller coaster.
The other thought that went through my head as I meandered down the fast food alleys of the Denver Airport was, I should call my mom and share this with her. Thank goodness I was given a mother who found the world outside of Meriden Kansas to be not only interesting but also worth visiting. It’s fun to be able to share such experiences with someone who knows exactly what you mean. It’s a little different than expressing the same sentiment to a father whose palms start to sweat the moment his blood detects any form of detachment from the uniform soil of the Midwest. I know he tries, but big white barns simply do not travel well.
That is all I have for now. I am not surrounded by angry crack heads anymore or exploding toilets so my entries may become a little less frequent or at least less dense in their content. You know, something quick you can read in between the time your boss isn’t watching.
Peace!
Michelle
The other thought that went through my head as I meandered down the fast food alleys of the Denver Airport was, I should call my mom and share this with her. Thank goodness I was given a mother who found the world outside of Meriden Kansas to be not only interesting but also worth visiting. It’s fun to be able to share such experiences with someone who knows exactly what you mean. It’s a little different than expressing the same sentiment to a father whose palms start to sweat the moment his blood detects any form of detachment from the uniform soil of the Midwest. I know he tries, but big white barns simply do not travel well.
That is all I have for now. I am not surrounded by angry crack heads anymore or exploding toilets so my entries may become a little less frequent or at least less dense in their content. You know, something quick you can read in between the time your boss isn’t watching.
Peace!
Michelle
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